Genre Romance. Page - 18

miled slowly, showing a row of very white, strong teeth."I know, auntie," she said. "No; I shouldn't think Laurie'll mind much. Perhaps he'll go back to town in the morning, too." "No, my dear, he's staying till Thursday." * * * * * There fell again one of those pleasant silences that are possible in the country. Outside the garden, with the meadows beyond the village road, lay in that sweet September hush of sunlight and mellow color that seemed to embalm the

self as if I was cruel in going to be married and not helping you. It ain't kind. Now, is it kind, Poor Thing?""Sally! Hear me, my dear. My entreaty is for no help in the future. It applies to what is past. It is only to be told in two words." "There! This is worse and worse," cries Sally, "supposing that I understand what two words you mean." "You do understand. What are the names they have given my poor baby? I ask no more than that. I have read of the

ll the knowledge of good and evil that God had perhaps given her, but that no one had ever thought of developing. I shall always remember her, as she passed along the boulevards almost every day at the same hour, accompanied by her mother as assiduously as a real mother might have accompanied her daughter. I was very young then, and ready to accept for myself the easy morality of the age. I remember, however, the contempt and disgust which awoke in me at the sight of this scandalous

new trail had not been noticed. It ran deep and well marked through the heavy brush of a gully to a place where the brush commenced to thin, and there it branched into a dozen dim trails that joined and blended with the old, well worn cattle paths of the hillside."Somebody's might foxy," observed the man; "but I don't see what it's all about. The days of cattle runners and bandits are over." "Just imagine!" exclaimed the girl. "A real mystery in our lazy, old

gish insect food that I felt the moment degrading.Kitty was, I felt, being a little too clever over it. "How is he wounded?" she asked. The caller traced a pattern on the carpet with her blunt toe. "I don't know how to put it; he's not exactly wounded. A shell burst--" "Concussion?" suggested Kitty. She answered with an odd glibness and humility, as though tendering us a term she had long brooded over without arriving at comprehension, and hoping that our superior

rmagnac or red Anjou? This was a Burgundy of whichMonsieur le Marquis thought highly, and this a delicate Lombardywine that His Majesty had oft commended. Or perhaps Monsieur deChatellerault would prefer to taste the last vintage of Bardelys?And so they plagued him and bewildered him until his choice wasmade; and even then a couple of them held themselves in readinessbehind his chair to forestall his slightest want. Indeed, had hebeen the very King himself, no greater honour could we have

sh greycalled grisaille, formed the further side of the tiny apartment.Madame Poulain, turning a key, revealed a large roomy space now fitted upas a cupboard. "It's a way through into our bedroom, monsieur," she saidsmiling. "We could not of course allow our daughter to be far fromourselves." And Dampier nodded. He knew the ways of French people and sympathised withthose ways. He stepped up into the cupboard, curious to see if this too had been apowdering closet, and if that

start, he noted it and halted his pony after reaching the level to look about him.There was no sign of any cattle. But he reflected that perhaps a new range had been opened. Thirteen years is a long time, and many changes could have come during his absence. He was about to urge his pony on again, when some impulse moved him to turn in the saddle and glance at the hill he had just vacated. At about the spot where he had sat--perhaps two hundred yards distant--he saw a man on a horse, sitting

Raynold Cobham, and their company rode out on the one side and wastedand exiled the country, as the lord Harcourt had done; and the kingever rode between these battles, and every night they lodged together.OF THE GREAT ASSEMBLY THAT THE FRENCH KING MADE TO RESIST THE KING OFENGLAND Thus by the Englishmen was brent, exiled, robbed, wasted and pilledthe good, plentiful country of Normandy. Then the French king sent forthe lord John of Hainault, who came to him with a great number: alsothe king